


Cashmere Coats and Small Metal Spaces

by sapphiresnail



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: AU modern, Elevator, M/M, cashmere coat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphiresnail/pseuds/sapphiresnail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras & Grantaire end up being trapped in an elevator. They bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cashmere Coats and Small Metal Spaces

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from "642 Things to Write About"
> 
> "Put two people who hate each other in an elevator for 12 hours. What happens?"

“Hold the elevator, please!” a slightly raspy, yet extremely out-of-breath voice called from beyond the doors of the elevator. Enjolras stuck out his foot to prevent the metal doors from closing.

“Hey, tha— oh, Enjolras,” the man’s initial smile and gratefulness at catching the elevator disappeared almost instantly. “Th-thank you.”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras replied simply, glancing up at Grantaire’s frazzled hair and considerably pink face. He furrowed his eyebrows before returning his attention to his phone, staring blankly at the home screen.

Enjolras positioned himself in such a way that he was blocking the buttons, causing Grantaire to panic at the thought of intruding in Enjolras’s personal space in order to signal his floor. The silence was so deafening, and Grantaire had no choice. He leaned over to press number 20, which was the top floor.

“Um, I can just—” Enjolras stuttered, shrinking farther back into the corner, “What floor?”

“Twenty, please,” Grantaire said, palms beginning to sweat as the blonde quickly pressed number 20, and then 19 shortly after. This was going to be the longest elevator ride of Grantaire’s life.

Last night, Enjolras and Grantaire attended a birthday party for one of their friends, Courfeyrac. He was finally turning 21, which was a very big celebration. Needless to say, Grantaire drank as though he were turning 21, and as a result made a number of faux paus in front of his highly beloved, including confessing his deeply internalized feelings of love, followed by horrendous verbal assaults on Enjolras’s beliefs and passions, which got him so fired up that he got into a fight with some guy none of them knew. The grand finale of the night was Enjolras, and the rest of their friends, putting up money to get Grantaire out of jail.

Grantaire will never forget the look on Enjolras’s face as he exited the police station. It was a mixture of extreme disappointment, shame, and embarrassment. Which, given the entirety of the night, was not completely unwarranted. Still, as gutted as Grantaire felt, he was grateful for the fact that Enjolras cared about him enough to not let him spend the night in jail. He also took solace in the fact that Enjolras cared enough about him to even feel disappointed. However, these desperate joys were fading fast, and this elevator was going as slow as a snail.

“So… the weather’s crazy today,” Grantaire tried to feel out the mood.

“Yeah. It’s raining a lot,” Enjolras said, still staring down at his phone.

Grantaire felt like strangling himself. The elevator stopped on floor 8, and an extremely proper looking businessman entered. The man quickly glanced at Grantaire, but did a double-take at Enjolras.

“Good day to you, sir,” Enjolras greeted smoothly with a smile Grantaire would kill for.

“Not really, it’s raining cats and dogs!” the man said with a dramatic sigh. He then faced Grantaire, “You don’t have an umbrella, young man?”

“No, I’m not really the bougie-type to carry around a parasol,” Grantaire said without thinking. Suddenly, he felt something burning on the side of his face. He quickly turned his head to be greeted by the most annoyed look he could ever have hoped to receive from Enjolras.

“You don’t have to be a bourgeois to carry an umbrella. Or a parasol for that matter,” Enjolras said harshly.

“Parasol, umbrella, what’s the difference anyway,” the man said with a chuckle. Enjolras scoffed so loud.

“Bless you!” the businessman replied cheerfully, clearly mistaking Enjolras’s annoyance for allergies. “This elevator sure is slow!”

“Yes,” Enjolras and Grantaire replied in unison. After 300 years, the elevator stopped at floor 15, allowing the businessman to exit.

“Well, have a good day you two!” the man bellowed.

“Yeah, cheers,” Grantaire mumbled, stealing a glance at Enjolras who made a move to get off the elevator along with the man, clearly for the sake of avoiding Grantaire. His decision came too late, and the elevator shut, causing a bit of Enjolras’s coat to be stuck in the door. The shriek that came out of Enjolras was ear-shattering to normal human beings, but to Grantaire it sounded like an angel in distress.

“It’s just your coat, calm down,” Grantaire tried, but his words were in vain. As the elevator started moving up, Enjolras found himself moving down towards the floor.

“It’s sucked into the door! What do I do?!” Enjolras was lying on the ground, desperately pulling at the sleeve of his coat. The elevator responded with a very angry sound.

“Take off your coat, Enjolras, before the whole elevator breaks down! What is that thing made of out anyway?” Grantaire said, surprised that a coat could even cause an elevator such problems.

“This is Burberry’s wool cashmere military pea coat! It’s actually eighty percent virgin wool, twenty percent cashmere to be exact. It retails for $1,095, but I had to pay close to $2,000 since they don’t make it in red,” Enjolras said almost too causally for being on the floor of a dirty elevator.

“Take off the coat, Enjolras,” Grantaire said calmly, as the elevator made noises similar to a sinking ship.

“No!” Enjolras yelled.

“Enjolras, take off the damn coat. You’re jamming the elevator!”

“Why don’t you take off your coat?!”

“I’m not stuck in the door, Enjolras.”

“God, you always have a sarcastic remark for everything!”

“Your wool cashmere whatever is going to break the elevator!” Grantaire kneeled down to attempt to grab the coat off of Enjolras, but Enjolras was having none of it.

“It’s a Burberry wool cashmere military pea coat, Grantaire, try to learn something other than the brands of alcohol!” Enjolras was slapping Grantaire’s hands away. By this time, the entire elevator, including Grantaire, had given up.

“What happened?” Enjolras said with his face still near the floor, panicked.

“We’re stuck in this elevator because of your $2,000 coat, Enjolras,” Grantaire said, trying to sound annoyed, but he had an odd feeling of euphoria in the pit of his stomach.

“How aggravating! And the sleeve of my coat is ripped,” Enjolras said, removing the coat too late and examining the damage.

Grantaire pushed passed Enjolras unnecessarily in order to hit the call button.

“Hello, I’m stuck in an elevator with a bourgeois and a cashmere coat, send help immediately!” Grantaire yelled into the microphone.

Enjolras scoffed and necessarily pushed Grantaire out of the way.

“Citizen! I am stuck in an elevator with a drunkard who believes in nothing and cares for nothing but the delusions associated with intoxication! And also a torn Burberry wool cashmere military pea coat with a ripped sleeve. Please send help and a sewing kit!” Enjolras released the button and furrowed his brow at Grantaire.

Grantaire smiled widely at Enjolras, who rolled his eyes so far back into his head he could have been mistaken to be on the verge of fainting.

There was a crackling noise as a response from the emergency phone, which caused both of them to jump. Silence followed.

Enjolras stared at the box, and then at Grantaire, who was still smiling.

“Citizen,” Enjolras pressed the communication button once more, “I don’t think you understand how dire this situation is. We are without food, water, and fresh air. I have a class to attend to in five minutes regarding political propaganda, and –”

Grantaire leaned over too close to Enjolras to add, “And his coat is ripped.”

“Enough about the coat! This is serious!”

“I don’t know, Enjolras, a cashmere… wool… coat from the military is pretty high up on the importance scale…” Grantaire said with a serious expression.

“Stop! We need to brainstorm. This ‘emergency call’ box is useless! I’m sure our taxes paid for this,” Enjolras scoffed at the box.

“Um, I don’t think so. But anyway, we obviously can’t pry open the door because of the—”

“Don’t talk about the coat anymore, Grantaire I swear to God.”

“Okay, what about this vent?” Grantaire pointed at the ceiling. They both gazed up at the grate on the top of the elevator, concealing a no longer functioning fan.

“Um… I don’t think… Grantaire, that fan could turn on at any moment…” Enjolras shuffled his feet.

“I’ll do it then. Let me climb on your back for a boost,” Grantaire said, fighting back laughter from the look on Enjolras’s face.

“Are you kidding me?” Enjolras said, aghast.

“Yes, I’m kidding you. Looks like we’re camping out for the night,” Grantaire said, sitting down in a corner. Enjolras stared into space for about five minutes, brows furrowed and lips parted, and Grantaire stared at Enjolras for five minutes. Enjolras broke the silence with,

“Let me climb on your shoulders, I’ll do it.”

Grantaire didn’t reply at all.

“Do you want to get out of here or not?!” Enjolras said, getting frantic.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” Grantaire said, standing up. “How do you want to do this.”

“SQUAT!” Enjolras said, too loud.

Grantaire was sure this was the happiest moment of his life. However, when a 6 foot Enjolras was sitting on his shoulders, he was also sure this was the most unsteady he’s ever been on his feet.

“Can you please stop moving?” Enjolras said, trying to grasp at the ceiling for support.

“Honestly, no,” Grantaire said, legs shaking.

“Okay stop, get me down,” Enjolras said calmly.

“I honestly don’t think that’s going to happen either,” Grantaire said, distressed.

“GET ME DOWN GRANTAIRE!” Enjolras shouted, beginning to hyperventilate.

Just then, a slightly familiar voice was heard crackling over the emergency help box.

“Attention gentlemen trapped in elevator number 24601, because of the storm raging outside (seriously, there are cats and dogs falling from the sky) we’re having trouble getting power. Please do not panic. Respond as soon as possible so I can confirm everyone is uninjured. Or alive.”

“Grantaire, we have to answer!” Enjolras said hanging onto the ceiling grate.

“Okay can you just hang up there for a minute? My legs are going to collapse,” Grantaire said, profusely sweating.

“Hang?!” Grantaire might as well have asked Enjolras to kill a man.

“Like monkey bars. Embrace your inner schoolboy,” Grantaire said, closing his eyes in pain.

“I was homeschooled,” Enjolras replied, matter-of-fact.

“Oh my God, Enjolras, just hang for one second, and then I’ll help you down.”

“Okay, but only one second. I don’t hang.”

Grantaire felt Enjolras lift himself from his shoulders, and he never would have expected himself to feel so relieved.

“Grantaire, catch me!” Enjolras let go, literally after one second, causing Grantaire to entirely miss Enjolras and resulting in them both falling to the ground in agony.

“Enjolras, seriously.”

“You told me you were going to catch me.”

“I think my legs are broken.”

“Stop being a drama queen, R,” Enjolras made his way over to the emergency box and began to speak into it. Grantaire didn’t hear anything Enjolras was saying.

_He just used an affectionate nickname. With me._ Grantaire was no longer on Earth.

“What do you mean ALL NIGHT?” Enjolras’s angelic voice echoed throughout the 4 by 6 space, bringing Grantaire back to their struggle at hand.

“ _With a love this deep, we don’t need no sleep—_ ” Grantaire burst into song.

Enjolras sank to the floor. “Why are you doing this?”

“Are you serious, Icona Pop? _We can do this all night~_ ”

“Do what all night?”

“Just – it’s a song, Enjolras,” Grantaire shuffled over to Enjolras and sat down beside him.

“Okay, new rule. No singing,” Enjolras sighed.

They sat in silence for a few moments, letting the reality of the situation sink in for both of them.

“So… let’s play a game to pass the time,” Grantaire tried.

“I don’t want to play any games,” Enjolras said, leaning his head against the metal wall and closing his eyes.

“Okay, this is how it’ll work. I can ask you a question and you have to answer truthfully, and then you can ask me one,” Grantaire explained as cheerfully as he could.

“I definitely do not want to play this game,” Enjolras replied, opening his eyes and staring widely at the ceiling.

“I’ll start then. Why do you value materials items and dumb political ideas more than people?” Grantaire asked bluntly.

“I – what! There’s no truth in that at all! The whole reason I educate myself so diligently is for the betterment of the people! And my very good friend gave me that coat, so excuse you,” Enjolras nearly yelled, getting quite frazzled.

“Really, Enjolras. You talk as though you’re going to change the world. One man revolution,” Grantaire pointedly rolled his eyes.

“I believe it’s my turn,” Enjolras said, sitting up.

“I thought you weren’t playing,” Grantaire said, biting his lip and beginning to sweat at the thought of Enjolras asking him potentially personal and embarrassing questions. Then he remembered this was Enjolras.

“It’s my turn! What do you believe in?”

Grantaire felt Enjolras staring at him, waiting for a response. It was such a simple question with such a simple response that Grantaire just couldn’t bring himself to say.

“You already know the answer to that question, Enjolras, if you think about it,” Grantaire said, hoping to throw Enjolras off his game.

Enjolras paused, his gaze drifting around the elevator in thought. “It’s not change.”

“Nope,” Grantaire smiled at Enjolras’s engagement.

“It’s not the people and the wonderful potential resting in each of them…”

Grantaire didn’t need to fake his eye roll this time. “No.”

“You’re not religious, are you?” Enjolras asked.

“Did you want to change your question?” Grantaire grinned. The frustrated look on Enjolras’s face amused him greatly. The fact that Enjolras takes everything so seriously, even a simple game of questions, motivates Grantaire to get through the day. The fact that Enjolras has faith in everyone, the fact that he’s driven and determined, the fact that one day he will achieve everything he’s working for, that’s what he believes in. He believes that Enjolras will become even greater than he is now, and he wants to be there to see it. He believes in Enjolras.

Grantaire sighed, “I’m not religious. And I believe it’s my turn.” Grantaire tried his best to imitate Enjolras’s voice, causing the blonde to scoff in response.

If Enjolras was going to ask such deep and complicated questions, then Grantaire was going for the jugular.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire started.

“Yes, Grantaire.”

“Why do you hate me?” Grantaire couldn’t even look at Enjolras’s face. But he knew it was probably a mixture of annoyance and pity.

“I don’t think ‘hate’ would be the word I would use to describe you,” Enjolras replied after a moment.

“Let me rephrase,” Grantaire took in a breath, keeping his gaze on his feet, “How do you feel about me?”

“Hm, I feel that you’re…” Enjolras drifted off. Grantaire stole a glance and saw that Enjolras was also staring at his feet. It felt as though all the oxygen had left the elevator.

“I think that you’re just maybe a little…”

Hours passed, centuries even. Grantaire was sure he aged 200 years in the time it took Enjolras to compile his feelings for Grantaire and express them in a coherent sentence. If he were to look in the mirror, he was sure half of his face would be covered with a beard, and his hair would undoubtedly be gray. And Enjolras would still look the same.

Grantaire shifted uncomfortably, just to make sure he didn’t actually turn to stone. “Out with it then,” Grantaire pried.

“Lost?” Enjolras said it more like a question than an answer. “Confused…”

“Enjolras, are you describing yourself in regards to how to answer this question?” Grantaire asked plainly.

“Maybe,” Enjolras smiled at his own awkwardness.

Enjolras smiled.

Enjolras.

Smiled.

Grantaire couldn’t believe it. And yet he could, because it was Enjolras.

“Well how do you feel about me, Grantaire?” Enjolras asked too innocently.

Grantaire continue to shift uncomfortably on the floor. “Um… I guess you’re passionate?”

“You can’t answer safely, you have to answer honestly! Your rules, Grantaire,” Enjolras nudged his arm. Grantaire wanted to take Enjolras’s coat and smother himself with it.

_This is it, Grantaire. Just go for it._ “Well, if we’re being honest here,” Grantaire took in a breath and held it for a minute, “I think you’re really beau—” Just then, there was a huge bang on the outside of the jammed door.

“Saints!” Enjolras said, getting up and banging on the door, “We’re still trapped! Help!”

Grantaire felt light-headed, but agreed when Enjolras called whoever was on the other side of the door a saint. The door managed to open just a smidgen.

“Ah, sir, you have to help us!” Enjolras said through the crack in the door.

“Oho, I remember you!” Grantaire heard the voice of the businessman from floor 15. “Is that other guy in there with you, the lad without an umbrella?”

“His name is Grantaire, and yes he’s stuck in here with me!” Enjolras said grabbing Grantaire arm and dragging him towards the door. Grantaire waved at the man through the crack.

“Good evening to you, Grantaire!” the businessman waved back.

“EVENING?” Enjolras could have fainted.

“You know, I didn’t catch your name, sir?” the businessman turned to Enjolras.

“His name is Apollo,” Grantaire said smiling at Enjolras, who met his smile with a furrowed brow.

“Well then, Apollo and Grantaire, I will send for some assistance immediately!” the businessman quickly walked off.

Enjolras was still glaring at Grantaire when he was interrupted by his own thoughts. “Wait, if the businessman didn’t know we were in here, why did he open the elevator to begin with?”

Grantaire looked down at Enjolras’s feet, where his Burberry wool cashmere military pea coat used to be. Enjolras followed his gaze.

“Are you kidding me?” Enjolras cried, “Thief!”

“It’s okay, Apollo, your God friends will strike him down,” Grantaire said, making his way over to the floor buttons.

“Very funny, Grantaire you should be a comedian,” Enjolras scoffed. “Really, you missed your calling here. Good thing it’s not too late to start having a life.”

“Okay, Enjolras,” Grantaire said, hitting the Lobby floor of the elevator. The elevator responded with a disagreeable noise of protest, but the doors closed and the machine began to move downwards.

“Are you serious!” Enjolras looked around like he was just transported into a magical land. “Grantaire, you’ve saved us all!”

“Us all, you say, it’s only the two of –” Grantaire’s witty remark was cut off by embrace so warm that Grantaire could have melted into the metal floor.

“So, the coat really was the problem after all…” Enjolras said, unhooking himself from Grantaire.

_Yeah, no shit._ But Grantaire just smiled at the happiness radiating from Enjolras. They reached the lobby floor a lot quicker than it took for them to get to floor 15, much to Grantaire’s chagrin.

When the doors finally opened, the two were greeted by a fireman, policeman, and businessman wearing a Burberry wool cashmere military pea coat.

“Ah, Apollo, Grantaire!” the man coughed into an embroidered handkerchief, “I sent for help, but I see you no longer need it.”

“Actually, sir, we do,” Grantaire stepped in front of Enjolras, and approached the policeman, who stepped back in hesitation. “That businessman has stolen that coat!”

“What!” the businessman clutched his throat as if he were wearing a pearl necklace. “Why, I never!”

“That coat belongs to my friend Enjolras! I’m sure he has his name on it somewhere,” Grantaire looked at Enjolras for assistance.

Enjolras nodded, “It’s true! Look on the inside collar! Plus, there’s only one of those coats in red. I had it personalized, you see.”

“That man is not Enjolras! His name is Apollo!” the businessman said, after analyzing the collar of the coat.

Enjolras stared and Grantaire and rolled his eyes. “See what you’ve done.”

This time, the policeman stepped in. “You two, sir, ma’am,” the policeman nodded at Grantaire and Enjolras respectively, causing an extremely baffled look to emerge on Enjolras’s face, “Have been stuck in an elevator for such a prolonged time, you are forgetting your own names. And you, businessman, your name is certainly not Enjolras, so this coat does not belong to you either.” The policeman seized the coat and began to walk off.

“Wait!” Enjolras shrieked, “I have an ID proving my true name!” Enjolras shuffled through his pants pocket, but came up empty. “Oh, actually, my wallet is in the coat pocket…”

The policeman searched the coat pocket and revealed Enjolras’s wallet, and then extracted the ID.

“Police officer, sir,” the businessman spoke up, “How do you know that is not my wallet?”

“Good point,” the officer said, staring at the ID.

“Are you kidding me,” Grantaire chimed in, “That picture on the ID looks nothing like that businessman!”

“I actually just had my hair dyed,” the businessman tried.

“Why? Because you’re a mass-murderer?” Enjolras said, getting too close to the businessman. Grantaire pulled him aside.

“Don’t accuse that man of being a mass-murderer when he’s using your name, Enjolras!” Grantaire said in a hushed tone.

“Murderer, you say?” the police officer gave the businessman a hard look.

“No one said that,” Enjolras replied, composing himself.

“Listen, the theft of such a fine, limited edition coat is a serious crime,” the officer said, staring at the businessman and Enjolras, “Since I have no true evidence that this coat belongs to either of you, I will have to confiscate it and keep it in the evidence locker of the precinct.”

“Evidence locker?!” Enjolras looked as though the police officer punched him in the stomach. “The wool needs to breathe!”

“I agree. How about I just pay for it?” the businessman said, taking out his own wallet.

“That’s clearly his wallet!” Grantaire said, grabbing it from the man’s hand and thrusting it at the police officer. “Any more proof you require?”

“Sir, the adults are trying to make a business deal,” the policeman said, handing the man back his wallet.

“This is why we need change, Grantaire, step aside,” Enjolras moved towards the policeman. “Citizen!”

Grantaire, the fireman, the businessman, and the police officer all stared at Enjolras in awe.

“Your job as a police officer is to regulate and control the affairs of a community, especially with respect to the maintenance of order, law, health, morals, safety, and other matters affecting the public welfare. That man has clearly stolen a precious item from me, and substantial evidence has been brought to your attention proving his guilt. You are now choosing to disregard this evidence, and striking a business deal so you can make some quick cash. I will ask you this once, good officer, are you doing your job?” Enjolras asked harshly.

Silence filled the lobby. Grantaire and the fireman began to clap. Enjolras turned to glare at them, but when he turned back to the officer and businessman, he was smiling.

“You’re right, somewhere along the line I forgot my duty as a police officer. I stopped helping the people and started helping myself. Thank you for opening my eyes, Enjolras,” the policeman said, handing over the Burberry wool cashmere military pea coat, and arresting the businessman.

Grantaire was inspired, “How did you manage to completely change that policeman’s ulterior motive?”

“People are beautiful, Grantaire, and they all want to do good. Sometimes they get lost and confused and end up hurting other people, but it’s our responsibility to help put them back on track,” Enjolras said as the two of them walked out into the stormy evening.

Grantaire looked up at Enjolras who was putting up his ridiculously large umbrella. Without asking, he moved over to allow Grantaire to share.

“Thanks,” Grantaire said quietly.

“No problem! This is actually a Louis Vuitton golf umbrella. It retails at $780, but I got as a gift for entering a tournament with Combeferre,” Enjolras explained.

“They give out $780 umbrellas as the participation prize?” Grantaire said, wondering how such a privileged person could turn out so genuinely good.

“Yeah, they’re pretty generous. I’ll take you with us next tournament!” Enjolras said too enthusiastically.

Grantaire smiled as he walked with Enjolras all the way home, and couldn’t think of another day that went so awfully well.


End file.
